


And It Feels Like Heaven Is So Far Away

by VolxdoSioda



Series: KHR Rarepair Week 2018 (Complete) [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, M/M, Soulmate AU, khrrarepair week 2018, khrrarepair week: Day 1 [Storm], part 1/3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 23:41:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15011957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VolxdoSioda/pseuds/VolxdoSioda
Summary: Sawada Tsunayoshi is born with smoke and shadow on his skin.





	And It Feels Like Heaven Is So Far Away

Sawada Tsunayoshi comes into the world with wisps of smoke and shadow on his body. In the light, the colors of the strange whorls shift from a pale purple to an obsidian black, and behind the smoke strange shadows seem to lurk, watching the world around them.

The doctors are in dismay; soulmate patches on children usually consist of words or phrases - the most complicated of the lot being flowers. Simple symbolism, things you wouldn’t look twice at. Tsunayoshi’s mark covers his whole body, shifting and changing even as they watch. 

Nana is both distressed and delighted that her child has so proud a mark. But she recognizes that a large mark likely means the person on the other end is already well into their adult years. It will be likely that by the time Tsuna turns old enough to want to seek the person out, they might very well already be dead.

It’s a cold thought, one that keeps her awake for many years after.

0-0-0-0-0-0

As Tsuna grows, he learns to love his mark. 

His mother remains vaguely uneasy about it - the more she sees of it, the more unhappy she seems to be. In the early stages of his life, Tsuna runs around in shorts and t-shirts, until a woman on the street makes an unkind remark.

“Such an unsightly mark,” she sniffs at him in passing. Tsuna doesn’t know what ‘unsightly’ means, but he knows the little flinch his mother gives even as her smile becomes more focused, more forceful, more  _forced,_ is not good. He stares wearing jeans and long sleeve shirts after that, and while the mark doesn’t completely go away, having to see only a portion of it seems to make her feel happier. 

His father’s opinion, Tsuna never learns, the man having “gone to the stars” before he was born. It’s a small relief, because the rest of the world seems to think the smoke and shadows are bad omens.

To Tsuna however, once he becomes old enough to be called “dame” by his classmates, he loves the smoke. Because it almost feels like the mark shelters him from the world on days when he can’t bear to try. On days when his bullies run abundant, when they want his lunch and his bag and his toys, it feels like it’s a little easier to slip away unnoticed, like hiding isn’t such a chore. He can tuck himself away in a corner with a book, and nobody will know he’s there if he stays quiet.

Tsuna learns the value of silence like this, the value of being by oneself even while surrounded by others. He starts reading more and more books, exploring the world in ways others refuse, or simply don’t want to. He still runs and plays when he can, but it is mostly on his own terms - after all, nobody wants to play with the strange quiet boy with the mark made of smoke and shadows.

By the time Tsuna turns five, he has learned much more than the other children around him. He keeps the knowledge to himself, finding the thought of sharing the secrets he’s come to know with others almost repulsive. Even his own mother causes the feeling to rise in him when he tries to tell her one day, and ends up talking about something else instead.

Age five is also when the strange old man visits him, the one that feels like a roaring fire and a wall of ice. It is here he meets his father as well - apparently “going to the stars” merely meant “going halfway around the world to his job” instead of “dead”, like Tsuna originally assumes. In any case, he doesn’t much like his father either - the man is far too loud, too nosey, and when he tries to guilt-trip Tsuna into playing with him and the old man, Tsuna thinks  _I am not here, I am smoke and shadow and you don’t want either of those things,_ and runs out.

He doesn’t think it will work on adults, but it does. The old man doesn’t come after him, and neither does his father. And so throughout the visit Tsuna focuses on being smoke and shadow and air, and not a boy that either adult wants to meet. The old man goes home, and his father with him, and it is quiet once more.

Just how Tsuna prefers it.

0-0-0-0-0-0

In one universe, Tsuna has a seal placed on him when he is five, to prevent his Flames escaping.

In this universe, Tsuna escapes using the mark given to him by another at birth, the sign that there is someone out there made to match.

A butterfly flaps its wings, and a hurricane starts to form.

When Tsuna is seven, his father comes again, but this time with another old man, with one with dark skin and a strange shaved head. Tsuna once again thinks  _I am smoke and shadow, I do not exist,_ and as before Iemitsu forgets he is there.

The other man however, does not.

“Hello,” he says, crouching down, and Tsuna jerks away because  _no one_  is supposed to be able to see him. “You must be Tsunayoshi. My name is Bouche. How are you today?”

Tsuna keeps his mouth shut and shuffles further back, wondering if suddenly his trick no longer works. He tries again, because he doesn’t want to talk to strange adults he doesn’t know.  _I am smoke and shadow, I do not exist._

Nothing. The man smiles, slow and amused, and Tsuna desperately wishes his trick would work so he could flee out of the room. “I’m afraid that won’t work on me, young one. I’m used to seeing through the Mist of others.”

_Mist?_

“But it’s good that you know that,” Bouche says. “It’s good that you can protect yourself, even if you don’t have training. Timoteo will be happy that you’re safe, at the very least.”

Tsuna’s desire for knowledge fights with his need to run; in the end, the desire to know wins out. “What’s that Mist you’re talking about?”

Bouche tilts his head. “It’s a power,” he says. “One of seven. Do you like using it?”

“I like not being seen.”

“The Mist helps you do that. It’s made to conceal, to hide. I have the same power as you, so I can teach you more if you want to learn.”

Tsuna narrows his eyes. He knows from his mother’s lectures he must be careful around strange adults, and this one is particularly strange, so he must be extra careful. “I’ll think about it,” he says. 

That seems to satisfy Bouche, who nods, and rises back to his full (very tall!) height. “I’ll be around for about a week, so if you want to learn anything, I’ll teach you.”

“What about later?” Tsuna demands.

Bouche smiles. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

0-0-0-0-0-0

He decides to throw caution to the wind, and approaches Bouche the next morning before he heads to school. His mother is only too happy to have her husband back, so happy she doesn’t mind the extra guest, and so she doesn’t notice when Tsuna approaches Bouche. 

“I want to learn more about the Mist,” he tells the man as he sips a mug of steaming coffee. “Will you teach me?”

Bouche nods. “I can begin drawing up plans for lessons while you’re at school. Given I will only be here a week, I won’t be able to teach you much. But I can get you started with the basics. I’m certain you’ll manage much more on your own than with traditional teachings anyhow.”

School seems to drag, as Tsuna’s excitement over being taught something new trumps his ability to pay attention. By the time classes are over, his excitement has him sprinting for the gates, eager to get home. He doesn’t expect to find Bouche standing there, dressed back in his suit and tie, waiting for him patiently.

“Your parents have gone out for the evening,” he says when Tsuna approaches. He offers a hand when they approach a crosswalk, and Tsuna thinks nothing to take it.

A second after their skin makes contact, he feels a sliver of  _something_ that does not belong, and frowns. “What did you just do?”

Bouche tilts his head to peer down at him. “Do?” he asks, as though he doesn’t understand. Tsuna scowls at him.

“It doesn’t belong. Take it out.”

Bouche continues to pretend not to understand - but Tsuna can feel his amusement now, feel  _him,_ and so he knows Bouche won’t help him. This is a lesson, and Tsuna must learn it. So he closes his eyes as they walk, keeping one hand on Bouche for balance as he does, and focuses inward like he does when he wants to vanish. Except instead of thinking of smoke and air and shadows, he thinks of roots, deep and long, thinks of intruding insects and things that don’t belong. He thinks to wrap the roots around the insects, and pull them out.

The sharp pain that comes from doing that is enough to startle him, and he very nearly falls over. Bouche catches him neatly, mouth pressed in a flat line, his emotions nearly as sharp as the pain now radiating inside him. “A bit much, I think,” he says. Tsuna’s legs feel wobbly, so when Bouche picks him up he doesn’t fight it. “You truly are a remarkable child. Timoteo wasn’t wrong about that much.”

The pain fades as they continue on, but Tsuna continues to lie limp against Bouche. Normally he would flinch back from the idea of touching strangers, but Bouche no longer feels a stranger to him. He feels like kindred, as familiar as the shadows and smoke on his own body. “What was the thing you put inside me?” Tsuna finally mumbles as they near the house. “How come it hurts to try to pull it out?”

“It’s a string of Flame - it’s a small test, meant to measure just how strong your own Flames are. A bit like if I’d held up my hands and had you punch them. Depending on how you tried to remove the Flame would result in you either removing the string or becoming more tangled. Unfortunately, I didn’t account for the idea of you going for the source of the Flame.”

Tsuna blinks. “I just thought of roots and insects.”

Bouche hums. “Invaders. A smart idea. And perhaps once you’re fully realized as a Mist, you’ll be able to do that without harming yourself. As it was, your attempts backlashes because I am stronger than you - which is why it hurt. If I were weaker than you, it would have killed me.”

“Oh.” He tries to think of something to add, and finally settles on, “I’m sorry.”

Bouche chuckles. “It’s alright. But now I know how strong you are, and can start from a safe point. Before we start however, I would like to weave a net of Mist around your Flames, with your permission.”

“Why?”

“To protect you in case something like this happens again. The net will stop you if you try to overreach, and it will alert me if you push too far too fast, or if something tries to attack your Flames. It is a literal safety net.”

“It won’t do anything else?” Tsuna asks cautiously.

“No.”

“Okay then. It’s fine, I suppose.”

“Good. Then please hold still for a moment. I imagine this will feel strange, but it shouldn’t take much.”

And it  _does_ feel strange, almost to the point of making him want to squirm away. Like someone is draping an enormous cobweb over his entire body. Bouche keeps his word though; the sensation, however distressing, doesn’t last. Tsuna can feel it there around his own Mist in a loose ‘circle’ if he truly focuses, but otherwise it’s barely noticeable. 

“There we are,” Bouche says, pleased. “Now, let’s grab ourselves a snack, get your homework out of the way, and we can begin our first lesson.”

“Can’t we do the lesson first?” Tsuna whines. Bouche grins, clearly amused by his excitement.

“Homework is its own important lesson.”

“What lesson is that?”

“The lesson of getting paperwork done on time, and the sooner you get it done, the sooner you can get to our other lesson. Correctly, mind you. I’ll be checking your answers.”

Tsuna blinks, and then asks, almost eagerly. “Do you know maths very well?”

It’s the start of a beautiful friendship from Tsuna’s point of view. Bouche is less amused when he realizes just how awful Tsuna’s teachers in terms of teaching - he stares at the notes pulled off the blackboard with the closest approximation of polite disgust Tsuna’s ever seen, and then sets it on fire, and rolls up his sleeves, shucking the jacket and tie and pulling a pen from his pocket.

“We’ll begin with single numbers.”

(Later, when people ask how he can do numbers in his head so well, Tsuna says his older brother taught him. It might as well be true - Bouche is the only one patient enough to sit down with him and sketch things out until Tsuna  _understands_ them. The teachers teach one method and move on - but Bouche has lived with enough people and seen enough of the world to know all the different ways to go, and it serves him well in instances like this.)

0-0-0-0-0-0

The remainder of the week is divided into school and lessons about the Mist. Bouche, after taking a bat to Tsuna’s math, has him start with breathing exercises and meditation. From there, they move into visualization exercises. 

It all seems very drab and boring, right up until Bouche explains the importance behind each of these acts.

“A Mist’s resolve must remain unwavering when they visualize, or the construct will collapse and could hurt you. So you must get comfortable with thinking of several things over a long period of time, and  _holding_ the visualization. Doing so while meditating is easiest, and once you’re used to falling into that state, you can do so from anywhere, even if you’re in a fight.”

“Really?” The idea of being able to be so calm even while fighting seems impossible - sure, the action movies make it look easy, but Tsuna’s read up on adrenaline. He knows it’s hard to stay that calm and composed in a fight, not unless you’re used to the sensation of your body telling you to run away.

Bouche smiles. “By the time I’m done with you, there will be a great many things you can do that you didn’t think possible before. I guarantee it.”

The week seems to end entirely too quickly, and their last day together finds Bouche writing a name and address on a pad of paper. “Letters,” he tells Tsuna. “We’ll keep in touch, I assume, unless you’ve changed your mind about this whole affair?”

He hasn’t, and says as much. “What will I do without you around to teach me?”

“Oh, I’ll send you lessons - we have books at my work that run all the way from beginner level to master level. It shouldn’t be much work to get copies and send them through.”

Tsuna imagines poorly-laminated pieces of paper where the black ink has run during the copy-making, so the photos are barely legible. “Sounds… fun.”

Bouche reaches out and ruffles his hair. “Don’t look so down, little Mist. I assure you, you’ll get where you want to be in time. For now however, you’ve started on your way. The rest we can deal with when we have time.”

Tsuna pouts, tries not to imagine just how long he has to wait for the first letter, or how dull his days will become without Bouche around anymore. He’s grown to like the older man much more than either the old man that came before or his father - he feels  _reliable_ in ways neither man did, but he also feels incredibly open and honest, even as they make talk of deception and hiding one's’ true self away.

He watches Bouche and his father leave, Bouche giving him one last smile as they drive off. Tsuna watches until the car vanishes on the horizon, and then sighs quietly and goes back to his room. He tries to focus on what little remains of his homework - a simple assignment asking him to write the correct phrases in the empty spaces. But the sheer lack of Mist Flames in the space around him is its own distraction, and before long he gives up and curls up against his bed, turning the TV on for a distraction.

It doesn’t help.

The weeks following Bouche’s departure blur,  ****the lessons give to him at school a pale shadow compared to Bouche’s teachings. His bullies continue to act up, he continues to vanish, but now it no longer feels as if he needs to pull so much of himself up in order to escape; with the new teachings it feels almost like he takes a deeper gulp of air and the world forgets he’s there.

He uses this trick often the first few days following his teacher’s absence, until he realizes on the third day that calling on the trick gets harder and harder the more he uses it. Grudgingly, he stops using the trick for a few days, and in this time discovers two things about himself.

The first is that despite his time on the playground, he is woefully slow compared to his bullies. The first day he comes to school and doesn’t use his shadows, they catch him in a matter of moments and wail punishment down on him without mercy. Tsuna stumbles home beaten, nose bloody, and shocked at the sheer amount of pain his body radiates.

The second is that he likes heights.  _Really_  likes them. Likes the feeling of being up higher than everyone else, being able to see for miles. He wants that, craves it.A week of furious Googling later, he has his answer. Parkour, it turns out, exists for a very good reason. Free-running equally so. Both he can - and  _will_  - learn.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

A week after that, Bouche sends him a present.

Evidently the man suspected from the get-go that he’d find trouble quickly (he has), and so his present contains a couple of surprises. The first is the lesson he promised - not in the form of badly copied papers, but an entire  _book._

Tsuna handles it like one would handle a priceless one-of-a-kind object, hardly daring to breathe as he picks up the letter and reads the short inscription there. Bouche’s writing is sharp and quick, jagged at the ends of his words, and like a hook it snares him. 

_Tsunayoshi,_

_Here is the first in the series I told you about - it consists of seven books, each one a level above the next. I suspect if your sharpness is anything to go by, you’ll devour this one and demand the next one before the season is over. Try to pace yourself however - far better to master one trick than to only know a few thousand._

_To that end, within here you’ll also find a set of gloves, woven from Mist fibers. They’re made to help enhance your Flames, and allow you to practice making more powerful constructs. The net I wove around you remains in place for now - it will fade in a month or so, given I’m no longer around to actively feed it. Provided you are willing, when you are finished with this book I would like to place another, to ensure you remain safe throughout your trials._

_One last thing of note. That vanishing trick of yours is in here as well - though over the course of many years every Mist that has come before you has had different methods to call on it and strengthen it. Some use music such as humming or murmuring snatches of song, others use commands and harsh words. You’ll have to play around to see what fits you, but see if you can’t practice it so that your trick muffles your Flames and deadens your presence to the rest of the world. When I come back, I’ll expect to have to work to find you. Do your best to give me a proper runaround this time._

_Regards,_

_B._

By the end of the letter Tsuna is grinning madly; now not only does he have the tools needed to learn, but a chance to show Bouche what he’s learned and put it into practice. And even better than that, Bouche has given him a goal to strive for - complete disappearance. 

He tears through his homework, and then picks up the book. It’s late by this point - he should be going to bed. But surely one chapter can’t hurt?

One chapter rolls into another and another and another–

–and all too soon his alarm rings, telling him morning has come, and it’s time to get up and get ready for school. He stares, confused, first at the alarm and then at the light outside the window.

 _Oh,_ he thinks,  _so this is what Bouche meant by over-doing it._

He stumbles to school tired, his head full to bursting with new knowledge. He ignores going to class in favor of erasing himself and heading for a spot in the gardens he can tuck himself away and sleep for a bit. 

He doesn’t expect to be found again, especially not so soon. But found he is, and shaken awake. “Herbivore, get up.”

“Hrmg?” He blinks tired eyes up at someone he vaguely kind-of recognizes, and tries to put sleep-scattered thoughts back together. “Wassit?”

The boy curls his lip in something like disgust. “Skipping class is against the rules. I’ll bite you to death for it.”

Tsuna, thinking he’s let his guise slip, mutters  _shadow and smoke, not worth your time,_ and tries to leave. 

Unfortunately, Hibari Kyouya has always been a tenacious child. He pounces on Tsuna’s back, driving him into the soft earth. Then he lays his teeth on the back of the younger boy’s neck and  _bites._

Tsuna struggles; tries to lay down command after command of  _shadow and smoke_ but it does no good. Kyouya has his teeth in him, and refuses to release no matter how much vanishing Tsuna attempts to do. And given he’s heavier, all Tsuna’s pathetic flails in the dirt manage to do is kick up dust. In the end, Tsuna quiets, and Kyouya lets go of him as soon as he stops struggling.

It’s a queer sensation, having the bite marks and saliva from someone else on the back of his neck. Tsuna hastily swipes at it, grimacing. “Why’d you do that?”

“Because you’re breaking school rules. Now get back inside herbivore.”

Tsuna grudgingly goes back inside, if only to prevent himself being chewed on again. Apparently not willing to believe that Tsuna will  _actually_ return to the classroom, Kyouya follows him all the way to the door, and then stands and watches as he takes a seat. Satisfied, he leaves.

Unfortunately for Tsuna the girl behind him picks a very bad time to ask loudly, “Why do you have bite marks on your neck?”

Needless to say, his mother gets called.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Kyouya’s mother is named Hibari Iona, and she is a very proud, stern woman who apparently takes issue with her son biting random children. Nevermind the fact that Kyouya tattles Tsuna’s secret - “He’s a vanishing herbivore, mother.” - as soon as she steps foot in the room. His own mother thankfully thinks Kyouya means it as a kind of hide-and-seek game, and they just got a little too rough. She’s easily calmed once Tsuna explains he’d hidden just a little too long, and had been late for class.

Iona, unfortunately, does not buy the lie, even as she bobs her head and agrees with every lie Tsuna weaves. She watches him with the eyes of a predator, someone that has found something  _interesting,_ and Tsuna does his best to put enough distance between them that he has a running start to make his escape.

That doesn’t happen though, because a very tall scary looking man comes through the door and blocks his escape, and his mother laughs and finishes her tea, and Iona gracefully says, “Kyo-kun hasn’t had a friend stay over in quite a while.”

Sinking, sank, sunk. Tsuna finds himself alone in the Hibari compound with mother and son before him, and father behind, and all of them wanting answers.

“So tell me,” Iona says, and Tsuna twitches at the subtle baring of teeth she does. He covers the back of his neck with a hand, and hears something that might be a stifled laugh behind him. “What is this ‘disappearing’ trick Kyouya tells me you performed?”

Tsuna says nothing, watching them both warily. He has no desire to cast insult, but he’s not about to sit here and let Kyouya take away his secrets either. “I have no idea what he means. I was just taking a nap in the garden. I stayed up all night working on homework.”

Kyouya bares teeth at him, and Tsuna twitches again, and then bares his own right back. He doesn’t care if this other kid feels like being a bully, Tsuna’s got  _enough_ of those in his life, thanks.

Iona hums, still watching him. “I see. Perhaps you were not looking closely enough then.”

“I know what I saw,” Kyouya says. 

“Well I’m not a magician,” Tsuna snaps tartly. “And more to the point even if I was, what gives you to the right to  _bite_ me?”

“That reminds me.” A fan appears from inside Iona’s sleeve, and comes down sternly across her son’s head. “What God put the idea of biting people into your head? How many times must I tell you such behavior is unacceptable, and from a Hibari even less!”

The two begin to bicker, which provides an opportunity to escape, but the father still watches behind him, and so Tsuna  _does not_ give in to the urge and leave. Bouche had taught him that patience meant sometimes waiting for an opening you weren’t sure you’d get - it was a game of chance.

Eventually, another man comes in, and begins to speak softly to the husband. It provides the opening Tsuna has been waiting on. 

But still, he doesn’t immediately go for it. Because even young as he is, Bouche has drilled a lot into his head - including what a set up or trap looks like. They  _know_ he can disappear, and Bouche had told him that  _there are others out there like us, but with different attributes. If you meet someone who plays you, chances are they’re another Element, and they’re trying to gauge you. If you think they’re a Sky, you must be cautious._

But Kyouya doesn’t feel like a Sky. He doesn’t truly feel like anything except mean. Still, Tsuna isn’t about to risk it.

Time to see if his training has paid off. He closes his eyes, takes in a deep breathe, and sinks down, down, deep into black waters. Here, he is himself, here there is no need to panic or fear. He can control everything from here, and he can give the orders he needs to.

_Shadows, erase and disperse, smoke, halt and protect. There was never a child here. Shadows, erase. Smoke, halt. Tsunayoshi Sawada is not here. Disperse, erase, begone, vanish, fade. Shadow and smoke, cover me, let nothing see I am here._

It feels heavier now - less like breathing, more like hauling something on his back, bearing him down. Slowly he moves, shifting towards the door. 

He hears Kyouya’s triumphant noise, “See! I  _told_ you!”

He doesn’t take the door. He’ll give himself away if he does. But there’s a sliver of a window open, just large enough for him to get through. So he does.

His landing doesn’t come nearly as quietly.

“Outside.”

“Yuichi.”

“On it.”

_Erase, halt, disperse, erase, vanish, fade—_

And suddenly, there  _is_ something there. A wall of pure Flame, purple and multiplying fast. It’s closing in on him, tracking him even as he covers himself more, bears deeper into the blackness. Tsuna tries to keep moving, tries to stay quiet even as he covers his steps and silences himself. He’s sweaty by the time he ducks into the first alleyway he can find, the strain starting to hurt. He knows he’s pushing himself harder than usual, but he’s not about to let the Hibari’s find. him.

But up against hunters that know where to look and how to track even the smallest creatures, he has no chance.

He’s suddenly tackled from behind, a wall of Flame driven against his own fragile Mist. He hears and feels the shatter of his illusions as Yuichi bears him up carefully. Dizzy and disoriented, the man gets several steps back towards the house before he can call up another illusion. 

“Now, now, don’t fuss, we’re not going to hurt you,” the man attempts to soothe, and the Flame easily punches through the second illusion he makes, leaving him breathless again. Still, his desire to get away trumps everything else, and so he stops trying to hide and starts trying to fight.

The surprised noise the man makes when Tsuna slices him with Mist Flames is satisfying, even more so when he drops Tsuna and then curses and tries to snag him again. But Tsuna is smaller and faster, dashing through the crowds and around vendors and down alleyways, pulling up every last little bit of Mist he has as he goes.

_Vanish, erase, disappear, fade, no child here, shadows and smoke, vanish, erase, disappear, fade–_

He’s tackled again, this time by Hibari Kyouya himself, who hits him at an angle and smacks his head into the wall. He hits the ground, his body tapped out, already unconscious from the blow.

0-0-0-0-0-0

Perhaps it says a lot about his life that he wakes up to Kyouya staring at him, their hands intertwined. 

“He’s alive!”

The loud voice has him wincing, as his head takes the time to remind him of the injury he’s suffered. Slowly he shuffles upright, and by the time he does Kyouya’s parents have appeared in his line of sight, both looking worried. He glares at them as best he can. “Was that really _necessary?_ ”

Iona does have the grace to look a bit shamed. “We assumed you would not run once Yuichi caught you. My apologies.”

“What child  _wouldn’t_ run from strange people who apparently have a thing for Flames?” Tsuna snaps, wincing when the loud sound of his own voice hurts his head. “You could have killed me,” he tells Kyouya.

Kyouya just arches an eyebrow. So Tsuna bares his teeth at him again.

“The reason for our interest in you,” Iona cuts in before things can get out of hand again, “Is because we were under the assumption you were a Sky, being Sawada Iemitsu’s son. We were hoping you and Kyouya might look out for each other.”

“And you couldn’t have just said that?” He runs a hand over his face, the smoke on his skin swirling into a sulky ash gray. “I’m a Mist, not a Sky. So you’re just out of luck.”

“But,” Yuichi interrupts, “We would appreciate it if you and Kyouya would still lend each other your strength as you grow. As far as we know, there are no other Sky candidates in Namimori. So there can be no ‘heart’ - so we Elements must look out for each other.”

His anger disappears in the face of new knowledge. “Are Skies really so important?”

“They are and are not. We can exist without them, and some prefer to do so,” Iona says. “But it is a hard life. Many Unbound are looked down upon because we don’t have a Sky. And the Skies themselves are so rare they will choose only the finest. So there is a danger in attempting to court a Sky, and losing.”

Tsuna purses his lips. “It sounds stupid.”

Iona’s faint smile says enough.

 “Yeah, okay. But no more biting! Or tackling! My head can’t take another beating like that. And the next time you have something to say, just say it.”Kyouya grumbles - of course he does - but his parents are more than happy at this point. 

From that point on in Tsuna’s life, Hibari Kyouya becomes a regular feature. His bullies are suddenly a lot more prone to needing to be elsewhere, but Kyouya doesn’t let Tsuna slack either. His bitings also increase - Kyouya now regularly hunts him across the school in order to deliver them. 

Never in front of other students, thankfully, but it’s embarrassing all the same when he ends up driven to the ground and bitten firmly, held down until he stops squirming. Iona is clearly exasperated by the behavior, but her swats do nothing to deter her hellion of a son for long. Even Tsuna’s own attempts to stop Kyouya biting him are met with resounding failure - a spritz of water to the face via water bottle are usually met with longer bitings. 

So Tsuna deals, and does his best to navigate his new relationship and balance it with everything else. And that’s not to say the relationship isn’t completely without its share of benefits - Kyouya knows a lot about parkour and free-running, for example, owing to his parents’ own use of it. So in the end Tsuna goes to Iona and Yuichi for help.

“You want to learn both?” Iona hums. “A smart choice. Sadly, I don’t do much of either any more - my health does not allow for it. But my husband could certainly teach you assuming he has a free moment.”

Yuichi, as it turns out, has a lot of free time, and a lot of men. So on Sundays Tsuna goes to the Hibari compound, and is taught how to climb, run, leap and fly in his own way to get over obstacles. Naturally he isn’t very good at it - he’s small, and young, and his body isn’t ready for such things yet. Still, Tsuna persists. If Yuichi thinks him a fool for doing so, he says nothing.

His physical work might not amount to much, but his Mist learning is a different matter. He devours the first book at the end of a month, and politely sends a letter to Bouche asking for the next in the series. In the downtime of the wait, he practices his moves, sharpens his skills against Kyouya, who is learning how to manage his own burgeoning Cloud Flames.

In that time, Tsuna also learns what Iona meant about Elements sticking together. When a group of Yakuza attempt to catch Kyouya one day to blackmail his parents, it’s simple to reach out with his Mist Flames and hook the Cloud, vanishing them both and running away. Kyouya doesn’t want to run, he wants to  _fight,_ but Tsuna manages to remind him that he isn’t big enough to go biting them yet, and his parents would probably have more fun anyhow.

(They do, and they give him a basket of sweet fruits to share with Kyouya for telling them.)

And then in a surprise Tsuna is only too elated to get, a week later Bouche shows up at the house again, Iemitsu in tow. He sees the car first coming home from school, and feels Bouche’s letter come back to him.   _When I come back, I’ll expect to have to work to find you. Do your best to give me a proper runaround this time._

Tsuna grins, hums a thoughtless tune beneath his breath as he calls smoke and shadow to erase him. Kyouya has already gone home for the day, which makes it even better. 

The adults are talking about something, and of course neither of his parents notice him. But Bouche turns his head just slightly, frowning a bit and Tsuna stills, thinks  _light and dust, air and space, nothing there, nothing there._ He waits, breathless, and after a bit Bouche turns back, seemingly satisfied. Tsuna can feel his Mist prodding around however, trying to find him. It fills him with elation that he’s escaping his mentor’s attention–

–and then Kyouya has to ruin it all. “Herbivore, what have I told you about disappearing?”

Bouche’s expression is entirely too gleeful as Tsuna groans and drops the illusion. His parents, still too wrapped up in their own world, don’t notice.

“Found yourself a Cloud, I see,” Bouche rumbles, amused. “A Hibari, too. Very nice.”

“Oh yes,” Tsuna says, flopping down into a chair next to Bouche. “Hunting me down and gnawing on me, and then ruining my chance to show you what I’ve learned. He’s a fantastic Cloud.”

Kyouya glares at him from the doorway, slinking inside after him. He stares at Bouche in distaste, clearly not trusting him. “Strangers in Namimori will be bitten to death,” he says, and Tsuna rounds on him.

“You bite him, and I’ll bite  _you,_ jerk!”

Kyouya bares his teeth. Tsuna bares his right back. Bouche snorts, and then snags Tsuna in one hand, and Kyouya in the other, dragging them both up towards Tsuna’s bedroom.

“Alright my precious little ducklings, that’s enough of that. No in-fighting among Guardians now.”

“He’s a bully!”

“Disappearing herbivore.”

“I can disappear if I want! It’s my choice.”

“You skip class.”

“So? It’s not like they’re teaching me anything anyway.”

But Bouche makes a disappointed cluck with his tongue. “There will be no skipping classes, Tsunayoshi. Even if you think they have nothing to offer you, you still must attend.”

“Why?” Tsuna demands. “Why should I bother when they just bully me and treat me like I’m stupid?”

Kyouya wrinkles his nose. “They’re herbivores. What do they know?”

“You call  _me_ an herbivore.”

“Yes, but you can disappear.”

“I’m still an herbivore, according to you.”

Kyouya levels him with a patient  _are you stupid or something_ look. “You can disappear.”

“What your little Cloud means,” Bouche interrupts. “Is that you’re intelligent enough to avoid the masses, and thus staying out of trouble. So you’re in the same class as them, but a step above. Am I right?”

Kyouya nods. “Disappearing herbivore.”

Tsuna stares up at Bouche. “How did you translate that into regular person speak?”

Bouche snorts. “Clouds are a breed all their own, but they all like to talk in the same circle. Visconti is similar - though he likes to compare people to wines rather than animals.”

“Who is this Visconti? I will bite him,” Kyouya announces.

“Enough with the biting!” Tsuna shrieks.

Bouche just laughs. 

0-0-0-0-0-0

 

Bouche gifts him with the second book, and once again weaves a web of Mist around him. Kyouya is offended that Bouche doesn’t think him capable enough to defend  _his_  disappearing herbivore, until Bouche explains the web in a bit more detail.

And then, because he enjoys seeing Tsuna suffer, he challenges, “If you want to stand in place of my web one day, you must become strong enough to defend him in my stead.”

The gleam in Kyouya’s eyes doesn’t bode well, Tsuna knows. Not one bit. A second later he’s proven right when Kyouya lunges for Bouche.

Bouche seems to blur, and then Kyouya is on the floor, the man sitting astride his back. “You’re bold, brat, I’ll grant you that. But you certainly aren’t smart, challenging me so recklessly. What if I were the enemy?”

Kyouya, much like Tsuna had done against him weeks before, flails against Bouche’s weight and gets precisely nowhere for it. Tsuna would almost call it divine karma, if he believed in that sort of thing. As it is, he grins cheekily at Kyouya and taunts, “Well good job for showing me how it’s done.”

“I will  _bite_ you, herbivore!”

“You’re going to bite me tomorrow anyway. What’s one more matter?”

“Children, please,” Bouche scolds, but his lips are twitching like mad trying to conceal a smile. He nudges Kyouya lightly with the heel of his shoe. “Have some respect for your fellow Guardian, little Cloud. He may be the only thing standing between you and Death one day. Best not to alienate him.”

Kyouya submits with a lot of grumbling and dirty looks thrown towards Tsuna, Bouche eventually pulling him back to his feet. 

“Listen to me now, the both of you. From this point on, you two may as well be brothers. You  _must_ be able to trust that you can rely on each other if the world comes down around your ears. Without a Sky to call your own, there are many who would try to take advantage of you. Your faith in each other must be unquestionable, your loyalty unshakable. Do you understand?”

“Someone already tried to target Kyouya. Are there going to be more like that?” Tsuna asks earnestly.

“There could be,” Bouche says gravely. “There are poachers out there who won’t be stopped, Sky or no Sky. The both of you need to learn as much as you can, and work hard on strengthening both yourselves and your bonds so that if you ever find yourself with your back to the wall, you have a way out.”

They both nod. Bouche looks them over, and then nods his own self, apparently satisfied for the moment. “And with that, everything is as it should be. I’ll remain a week and then head back. If I take longer, Visconti will start grumbling.”

Kyouya becomes a little more tolerable after that week. He still hunts Tsuna down for bitings, but he’s less likely to immediately pounce on Tsuna now, preferring to wait until he’s actually found some violation to hold against him. They still spar, still push Cloud against Mist in an attempt to strengthen both, but now Tsuna brings water and post-battle snacks for both of them, and Kyouya walks Tsuna home at the end of the day. 

And so that is how Tsuna’s life from seven to twelve passes, in the quiet partnership with a Cloud he never thought he would ever need, possessing Flames he never saw himself ever having when he was young. By the time he reaches thirteen and Kyouya fourteen, their relationship has stabilized, and both of them have devoured Bouche’s teachings and are both proficient enough with their Flames to keep their backs up in a fight.

Unfortunately, thirteen is when Fate comes knocking yet again, and the universe once more splits.

0-0-0-0-0-0

It starts with strangers in Namimori. 

Walking home from school, Tsuna feels eyes on him; beside him, Kyouya begins to palm his tonfa beneath his jacket, evidently feeling the same cold malice trickling down his back that Tsuna is. Their eyes meet, and at the next turn they seperate, as if each going to a different house. A moment later, Tsuna feels a kind of grim satisfaction when the strangers start following  _him,_ instead of Kyouya. Under the guise of getting into his bag for something he pulls on his gloves and starts cordining the area off. 

Whether the men don’t sense the Flames or they do and simply don’t care, Tsuna doesn’t know or care. He wanders into the alleyways, feeling their excitement mount as he does, and heads straight for the dead end. “Whoops, wrong way,” he says, as if talking to himself. But he doesn’t attempt to bolt when he turns around and the men are pressing in on him.

“You’re Sawada’s son, ain’tcha?” One says, a grin on his face. “Sawada Tsunayoshi.”

“I am. I take it you have a score to settle with my father.”

Bouche has never told him what his father does, and Iemitsu has never made mention of it. But Tsuna’s grown up reading a lot of books, hearing a lot of different stories. And Kyouya’s parents are nearly as shy about calling a spade a spade as some might be.

“ _He’s certainly in some form of criminal enterprise,”_ Iona had said, the one time he and Kyouya had been caught discussing it. “ _With the amount of people that turn up looking for him or his family, it can be nothing else. Steel yourself, Tsunayoshi. You may need to denounce that father of yours if you want to survive.”_

As if denouncing a man that was never there was a  _hardship._ But Tsuna had agreed to keep it in mind, and had been keeping it in mind ever since. And it made sense, if he were honest. His father avoiding his family so steadily,never staying long enough to be remembered by any of their neighbors. He was just ‘the blond man that Nana married’. Tsuna wishes he could at least hate his father for being who he is, because then at least he’d feel  _something_ towards the man that has made his life so terribly fraught with danger now.

But unfortunately, he can’t. There is only apathy where Iemitsu is concerned.

“Sorry kid, nothing personal,” One of the strangers says, reaching inside his coat pocket. “But your old man’s been sticking his nose where it don’t belong.”

“Hmm,” Tsuna agrees, and right on time Kyouya swoops down like a vengeful bat out of hell, snarling  _kamikorosu!_ as he goes.

“Your time is getting better,” Tsuna says later, when all the men are unconscious. “It used to take you longer to bite them.”

Kyouya scoffs. “As if prey this weak would take me so long to chew down.”

Over the years, their relationship has grown and improved in ways Tsuna never saw happening. For one, Kyouya has calmed a great deal, for all that his vigor in biting intruders and opponents still remains. He’s taken over a baby gang, forming the Disciplinary Committee, and taken on the responsibility of manning and maintaining the standards of a good portion of Namimori’s private businesses. As such, Namimori is one of the few towns where privacy is actually kept, and held to the strictest standards. 

But more than that, Kyouya has become a pillar Tsuna knows he can rely on, and while Kyouya never indicates it, Tsuna knows he has the other boy’s trust in its entirety. Just as Bouche asked, they’ve become brothers and fellow warriors, protecting Namimori and having each other’s backs on days when strangers in dark suits start stalking around.

Kyouya hefts two of the bodies onto his shoulders, and Tsuna takes the third. They’ll be delivered to Iona or Yuichi, who will ‘dispose’ of them back to wherever they came from. Ninety percent of the time they don’t come back, but there have been a few stubborn ones over the years. As long as they don’t act like Mesmenir and her brother.

 

The criminal duo are the reason for Kyouya’s savagery where strangers are concerned, and the reason Tsuna’s Mist is as strong as it is. Kyouya very nearly lost his life, and Tsuna nearly broke his own Flame trying to protect Kyouya. They’d both been flat on their backs, under the protection of the Hibari clan in its full glory and threat after that little sideshow. The only one allowed in and out of the Compound during that period had been Nana, who had been told they’d been attacked by thugs on their way home.

That had also been the moment Tsuna realized that Iona and Yuichi considered him like blood - Yuichi had taken his finest and dragged what remained of the brother-sister duo back to Italy, right to the boss. Neither parent has said anything about what happened, but the lack of retaliation tells Tsuna all he needs to know; his back is protected.

So now they keep contact with the clan when they find themselves hunted. Both boys carry an alarm that will sound back at the Compound if they need help, and they take the assassins that come for Tsuna back with them.

They reach home before long, and find Kusakabe waiting for them. “Welcome back,” he greets, smiling. “I trust you had fun?”

Kyouya scoffs. “The invaders are getting  _weaker.”_

 

“That is much preferable to finding you both on death’s door.” Iona walks in. She lays a hand on Tsuna’s cheek. “Are you sleeping well, and eating enough? You look drained, Tsuna.”

Kyouya rolls his eyes at his mother’s fussing. “He didn’t even receive a scratch, mother.”

“Yuichi, does Tsuna look tired to you?”

Kyouya’s growl goes unnoticed by his parents. Tsuna flushes, warmed by their concern. “Thank you, but it’s as Kyouya says. I’m fine.”

“At least eat something before you go home, dear.” She starts to gesture a servant over. “It’s a long walk home, and–”

“Mother,” Kyouya snarls, “He’s  _not_ invalid, and it’s a fifteen minute walk between our houses. He. Will. Be.  _Fine.”_

She swats her son over the head. “Mind your manners! Your little brother is smaller than you, which means he needs to eat more if he wants to get strong. More to the point, he’s constantly using up that strength to get your troublesome behind out of the fire, so don’t you speak to me of being ‘fine’!”

As mother and son dissolve into bickering, Yuichi sneaks over and presses a wrapped plate of grilled meats and fruit and a cold drink into his hands. “For the long journey home,” he says with a conspiratorial wink.

0-0-0-0-0-0

If it were only strangers in Namimori that causes the change, that would be fine. Manageable, even. Tsuna could deal with a steady stream of strangers, and Kyouya could certainly enjoy the challenge of biting so many. But it isn’t just men in suits roaming around. It’s the undercurrent of violence that’s suddenly swelled up in their lives as well.

“Four more underclassmen went to the ER last night,” Kusakabe reports that morning as Tsuna and Kyouya get ready for school. “The same appearance as all the others - severely beaten, lacerations around the face, and signs of Mist influence.”

Tsuna scowls. Since the beginning of the new school year, there have been a spree of beatings - normally things like this are targeted, and they can trace the perp using the criteria of the people being targeted. But this person, whoever they are, seem to be targeting random bystanders. The only connection between any of them is that some of them are in things like boxing, kendo, and other such clubs. But even then, only a fraction of the people at their school who actually attend such things are being targeted. So that destroys that possible link right there. 

 

Far more alarming however is the fact that whoever is doing this has Mist Flames. Tsuna knows of exactly three families with active Flames in Namimori, and two with dormant ones, and nobody among them besides himself has  _Mist._ Which means this is another stranger, possibly one that’s aiming to get Tsuna’s attention.

“I’m sorry to have brought so much trouble to your town, Kyouya.” He taps his shoes against the floor to get them situated properly, and reaches for his bag and keys. “If I’d known this was what was going to happen, I would have said no to Bouche’s teachings.”

 

Kyouya glares at him. “Do not apologize for the mistakes of others, herbivore. You didn’t ask them to do this, and you certainly aren’t to blame for them wanting you. It’s that no-good herbivore father of yours I want to take a chunk out of.”

Because all the strangers and this upheaval comes back to Iemitsu. Who is apparently in some form of crime business housed in Italy - which means mafia. And that makes Tsuna want to grab his bastard of an old man and demand who told him that marrying a civilian woman and spawning a civilian son when he still had both feet firmly in the Underworld was a good idea.

It makes Tsuna wonder what Iemitsu would even say if he knew what was going on. He’d probably just laugh and smack Tsuna on the shoulder, saying something stupid like, _“Well you’re a man, aren’t you? So you can handle this much. Just keep Mama safe, and everything will work out!”_

 

Ugh, even the pretend conversation is giving him a headache.

The streets are quieter than normal as they walk to school, Kusakabe behind them, guarding their backs. It had been one hell of a surprise to learn the older boy was Kyouya’s older cousin twice removed - even more of a surprise for Kusakabe himself. But he had taken the reins as both cousin and right hand man in a graceful manner, and Tsuna could only be grateful for his presence. Because the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up, and an eerie sense of wrongness had started permeating the air around him.

Slowly, gingerly, he hooks his Mist onto the edges of Kusakabe’s Lightning and Kyouya’s Cloud, and within himself begins to weave an escape route straight to the school. Both of his fellows feel his touch, and Kusakabe begins to ready shields while Kyouya murmurs words of propagation under his breath. Even before they get to the end of the first block, all three are ready to make war.

But nothing happens. Throughout the long, endless walk through the quiet streets, they don’t encounter one other person, but they don’t get attacked either. When they make it to school, it’s both a blessing and a curse, because they know that whoever is out there hurting students is still out there, but they also recognize they are being hunted, and by entering the school they’re putting a lot of people in harm’s way.

Tsuna feels especially guilty.

Kyouya, evidently knowing Tsuna as well as he does, immediately says, “Kusakabe.”

Before Tsuna can say or do anything, he finds himself grabbed, a jacket much like Kyouya’s tossed onto his shoulders - probably a spare, now that he looks at it - and a crimson armband tagged onto his sleeve.

“You will remain by my side today,” Kyouya declares. “I will make your excuses.”

Tsuna bites his tongue. Saying anything about this is pointless, because he can already tell by the firmness of the Cloud’s Flames he won’t be swayed - he’s in that precariously grey mindset between Raging and not, where his sole thoughts are driven by protecting his people and territory. Bouche had explained it to him when he was younger, and Kyouya had first started sitting in on the lessons - but it was a lesson Tsuna himself never grasped.

 

_“Elements that feel particularly threatened will enter Rage; they’ll fight against whatever threatens them until the threat goes away. If there’s more than one Element attached to the bond, the Rage simmers down the line until everyone is at full alert.”_

_“How long does the Rage last?” Tsuna asks._

_Bouche’s smile is entirely cold. “Until the threat is destroyed, or the Guardians are dead. Whichever comes first.”_

 

Tsuna has a temper, but he’s never gone into that dark spot within his own head where nothing but destruction matters. He’s thought of protection, of shielding, of hiding. Never of rage.

But Kyouya has been born and raised in violence. He basks in it, lives for it. To him, Raging is simple. Kusakabe has confessed he suspects Kyouya has Raged more than once - there have been periods peppered throughout his life where he’s gone colder than normal, where his instructions have been clipped and short, and anything less than an immediate result is deemed a failure.

So the Rage isn’t a surprise now. But Kyouya is gathering his people, protecting them, and readying the borders of their territory for an attack that may or may not happen. In any case, Tsuna nods to show he recognizes the order, and adjusts the jacket a bit more. For now, all he can do is walk and try to get his head on straight, maybe see if he can’t find a link to trace back to their mysterious attacker.

He thinks of writing Bouche, or even Facetiming the man. That would be the best scenario - but Bouche is so rarely available these days. Whatever is going on has put him on a very busy schedule, and his letters often come back rushed and to the point. Gone are the days of lessons and carefree answered questions. He doesn’t want to interrupt if he can help it, so it’s looking like this is a problem they’re going to have to solve by themselves.

As it turns out however, they don’t have to go far to solve it. The problem comes to them.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0

Kyouya is missing.

 

That wouldn’t be such an alarming thing to notice, if not for the fact that Kusakabe is _also_  missing. Because sometimes Kyouya likes to go for patrols, but Kusakabe is always available.

Tsuna doesn’t know where either of them are, but there’s been an anxiety swelling in the pits of his stomach since he woke up, an underlying clamor of  _wrong wrong wrong_  that refuses to go away. His feet don’t take him to school that morning.

Instead, they carry him away, deep to the derelict Kokuyou Land. And there, he finds people waiting for him.

“So, you’ve finally shown up, Vongola!”

 

There are a pair of boys, a girl and a man before him. The boys and the girl are dressed in Kokuyou uniforms, while the man is dressed in what Tsuna might call an ex-yakuza garb. Tsuna can feel his blood simmering at the sight of them, and he narrows his eyes.

“Where are they.”

“Your friends are inside, taking a  _nap_ , byon!” One of the boys - a blond, with a scar across his nose and elongated teeth that certainly aren’t natural, grins at him. “You want ‘em, you gotta go get ‘em!  _Kong Channel!”_

“For being a Vongola, you certainly aren’t much to look at, are you?” The girl sneers. “You’ve got a pretty face, but not much else. Certainly no money. Oh well, you won’t be missed.”

They move, but Tsuna has been weaving webs in shadows and light since he left the house, and so it’s nothing to whisper  _ **consume**_  and have the ground beneath them go out, the girl screaming as she plummets down, down, down–

The blond manages to grab the ledge and haul himself out, and the boy with the beany is already moving forward, his yo-yo shooting spikes. Tsuna locks onto him next, because he can smell the acrid stench of poison from here.  _ **Strike down and devour,**_  Tsuna orders the shadows, and the boy chokes, stopped cold as his body explodes with lacerations, massive chunks of flesh gone missing. He hits the ground, and doesn’t move.

 

 _“Chikusa!”_  The blond roars, enraged. “You son–”

 _ **Fetter and hold,**_  Tsuna whispers, Mist escaping his lips as his command takes.  _ **Bar and restrain, capture and bend, but do not break.**_

Roots erupt from the ground and entangle themselves around the blond. The more he struggles, the worse his containment gets, until at last he’s so wrapped up he can barely twitch. He wheezes, glaring at Tsuna with hate-filled eyes. “Vongola,” he hisses. “You’ll pay for this. Mukuro-sama is going to break you!”

“Vongola,” Tsuna murmurs. “Vongola.”  _And here now is the root of it all. This ‘Vongola’._ “My name is Sawada Tsunayoshi. I don’t know who or what Vongola is, but you’ve got one thing very much wrong. Your ‘Mukuro-sama’ isn’t going to break me. I’m going to break _him._  Now.” He levels a look at the last man, who is standing there, frozen. “Are you going to take me to the leader, or do I have to make an example of you as well?”

The man swallows, a small bob of his throat that Tsuna tracks. “Come with me,” the man says at last. He leads Tsuna inside, up stairs and creaking floorboards. The entire time he throws little glances over at Tsuna, like he can’t believe he’s real.

 

“He’s going to kill you,” he says at last, and his voice is filled with a fragile, broken kind of finality. “You aren’t so valuable that he won’t.”

Tsuna turns to face the stranger. He rakes his eyes up and down the man, assessing him. “Up until this moment, I have never been valuable to anyone outside Kyouya. So believe me when I say I don’t know what any one of you is talking about, and trust me when I say I don’t care. I’m going to get Kyouya and Kusakabe, and go home.”

The man stares at him. “A-aren’t you the future don of the Vongola?”

“No. Do I look Italian to you?”

“But you’re Sawada Iemitsu’s son! Everyone knows you have Sky Flames!”

Tsuna arches an eyebrow. Sky Flames.  _Him?_  “I have Mist Flames, actually.” He lifts a hand and demonstrates, calling a small flicker. The man stares even more, as if baffled.

“He attacked those boys for nothing,” the man whispers to himself at last, in sheer disbelief. “It was all a lie.”

“Indeed. My friends?”

The man mutely points down a hallway. “Last door on the right. Mukuro will be waiting. He’s… like you. Powerful.” He swallows. “I doubt it makes a difference to you at this point, but I wasn’t given much of a choice in these operations. My name is Lancia. The three you beat back there were M.M, Chikusa Kakimoto and Ken Joshima.”

 

“Hmm.” He walks on. Thinks on mercy, and the act of it, how all this will pan out at the end of the day. Kyouya is going to want blood, and Kusakabe will probably be willing to follow Kyouya’s example. But if Tsuna speaks, Kyouya will listen. He won’t like it, but he’ll listen.

Tsuna steps foot in the room Lancia pointed him to, and immediately finds himself wrapped up in Mukuro’s Mist. It’s thin and fragile, meant more for stealth than direct offense. It’s an easy matter to reach out with his own, murmur  ** _shatter and rewrap_**  and have the entire world go smokey-dark with his Mist instead.

He hears Mukuro choke somewhere in the room, and then there’s a gleaming silver trident heading straight for his eye. Reflexes taught by Bouche and honed by Kyouya have him catching and holding it, preventing it from touching him. And at last he gets a look at the famed Mukuro.

“You’re the one responsible for all this, then?” Tsuna asks the man calmly. “Tell me, why do you think I have Sky Flames, and why does it matter?”

Mukuro snarls at him like a wild thing, his Mist trying to find a catch in Tsuna’s own to tear it down. But there is no catch, because Tsuna’s taught himself to be as slippery as he needs to be. The trident keeps trying to catch him, but Tsuna holds it firm. “Tell me,” he orders again. “Because from what I’m understanding, there’s been a severe miscommunication. You’re looking for something that isn’t there.” He flares Mist Flames again. “I don’t have Sky Flames. And I don’t know who Vongola is. I can’t give you what you want.”

At this, Mukuro seems to pause, just briefly. He finally speaks. “You’re lying. You’re Sawada’s son, of course you’re going to have Sky Flames.”

Tsuna sighs through his nose. “Fine. Just remember, we could have done this the easy way.”

He steps closer, as close as he dares get with the trident pointed at him, and grabs Mukuro by the lapels of his jacket, hauling him closer. He gathers his Mist in a certain way, and brings it to bear against Mukuro’s own.

And then he opens himself up, and lets Mukuro in.

Within the fortress of his mind, there is no place for shadow to ruminate. Everything is painted in bright truths and unforgiving honesty. Tsuna has never lied - and will never lie to the people that matter. He is Mist, yes, but there is no coldness in him, not in the way there is Bouche or Mukuro, who will do what it takes to survive.

He presses this up against Mukuro’s own dark heart, and whispers  ** _truth._**

Mukuro gasps, eyes gone sightless, jerking in his grasp like a fish caught on a hook. He struggles, but Tsuna continues holding firm, keeps pressing it home - that all of this is truth. There is no Vongola, no Sky to be found. He is only a Mist, who has been taught by another Mist, and there is a Cloud and a Lightning. But there is no Sky.

(And if Tsuna has his way, there will never be one.)

 

**_Truth, truth, truth._ **

Mukuro’s legs give out, and Tsuna carefully lowers him to the ground, following him. The trident tumbles out of his hand, Mukuro shivering and cold with the realization that all his schemes, all his pain has been for nothing. There can be no revenge, because there is no Sky. No grasp, no stronghold to invade.

Merged as they are, it’s so easy to slip a little deeper into Mukuro’s memories on accident. Like leaning his weight on a slimy rock, it suddenly thrusts him forward, and he finds–

**Chaos pandemonium pain we were kids why would you do this to us–**

**Family–**

**Chikusa and ken–**

**Pawns–**

**Vongola–**

**Revenge–**

He throws himself out of the memory, but it’s already too late. What he has seen can’t be unseen, and what little energy Mukuro seems to have is drained in the face of Tsuna’s revelations to the why of all of this. He collapses, Tsuna catching him without thought.

And there they sit, Tsuna in a stunned disbelief, Mukuro verging on unconscious, until an invasion of black takes over.

The Vindice arrive.

At first, Tsuna doesn’t hear them approach, still wrapped up in the stark memory of Mukuro’s decisions, the brutality that drove him to these lengths -  _he’s my age, a child, but he wants to drench the world in blood._

The rattle of chains catches his attention because it’s a sound he’s not familiar with, that doesn’t  _belong_ in a place that was so quiet only moments earlier. The phantoms draped in black cause him to jerk, throwing up a barrier of Mist as the first chain rushes at his face.

 **“Child,”**  the phantoms - monsters, now that he can see them, say.  **“Give us that boy.”**

Instinct has him baring his teeth at them. “Who are you?” He clutches Mukuro to him, puts himself between him and the monsters moving forward.

 **“We are the Vindice, the keepers of order and law within the mafia.”**  One steps forward. Tsuna assume he - she? - is the speaker.  **“That child is a criminal, and must be punished. Hand him over.”**

For a few seconds, the words don’t sink in. But then they do -  _mafia, criminal, keepers of law_  - and everything runs red. His voice, when he speaks, comes out incredibly steady.

“This is about Mukuro’s family, isn’t it. The Estraneo.” The words bounce around in his head like a bomb, throwing itself to and fro, ready to explode. He holds on, tells himself not yet, not yet. “You’re here because he and the others killed them.”

**“Yes. Hand him over.”**

The Flames of Mist retract. It is the only warning the Vindice get.

_“No.”_

The world explodes in a rush of silver chains and indigo Flames, Tsuna standing on his feet, Mukuro curled in his arms like a child. Tsuna stares down the Vindice, bares his teeth and lets his very being burn with the need to scream for justice. “You  _dare_  call yourselves keepers of order and law, but the mafia has no law. You say Mukuro is a criminal? Why? Because he killed the men and women that decided power was more important than family? That children were nothing more than _lab rats_  to be exploited and used, and then thrown away when they didn’t get the results they wanted? You  _dare_  to come here and  _demand_  I hand over a survivor to the carnage, and you expect me to quietly stand back and let him suffer  _ **again?!”**_

Tsuna burns, and burns, and burns and the room trembles with his rage. The smoke and shadows on his skin rise and darken, curling around his neck and face, distorting him, making him look like a being of void. The Vindice do not step back, but the chains do not come for him. The one at the head meets Tsuna’s eyes, watches as indigo burns and merges with the grey smoke, as the shadows lengthen and grow on Tsuna’s body, and eerie whispers begin to fill the room. It feels suddenly as if there is a crowd behind the boy’s body, speaking in hushed tones about them. Whispering their secrets, their knowledge, their weakness to him.

**“We do not interfere with the Family’s choices.”**

“Then you are  _hypocrites,_ ” Tsuna snarls. “You are  _bystanders_  who want only to punish, not to actually _help._  You catch victims, not criminals. They are children,  _my age_ , who have survived complete annihilation. They ran because that is all they know how to do. They sought vengeance against Vongola because that is all that makes sense. But I am not Vongola, I am not a Sky. But I will be damned if I allow you to take them without a fight.”

The lead Vindice tilts their head just so.  **“You will perish, then.”**

And Tsuna bears his teeth, and smiles the ugliest smile he has ever mustered. “Then so be it,” he says, and his Flames ring out  _absolution._

There is silence for a time, the Vindice absorbing his words. Normally quick to react, they now see a Guardian standing in place of a child, ready to make war and Rage against them. Destruction against a foe ready to die for another would make no point here; they must seek another way.

Bermuda has seen much in his time. But rarely does he find those so willing to lay themselves down for another.

**“You say you would guard him, protect him from us. But would you take responsibility, then?”**

Tsuna faces the smallest form, the one standing on the shoulders of the leader. “I would,” he says. “I would take him and his friends, and bring them with me. Give them what they need.”

Bermuda inclines his head.  **“Vongola will hear of this.”**

“Vongola is not my family. I do not claim them as mine, nor do I want to. I came for my friends - I will take these boys as well. All of them.”

**“You must claim them as Sky, then.”**

“I claim them as  _Mist,_  monster. I claim them as shadow and Mist and secrets. I claim them as shield and secret-keeper and above all as Guardian. I claim them as Mist, and I will not have them as Sky. This is my final ruling, and it won’t be changed.”

Bermuda hums, a quiet, thin noise.  **“So be it. We will tell Vongola - but only because you are of Sawada Iemitsu’s bloodline. We will tell them there is a Mist in Namimori who holds Mukuro and his secure. We hand responsibility of these ones to you - should they break the law of their own volition, we will hunt them and you down, and we will render judgement.”**

“So be it. Now leave.”

They do leave, and in the ringing silence Tsuna finds Mukuro staring at him, his own Mist a faint murmur against Tsuna’s own. In the distance, Cloud and Lightning wake, and begin to stumble towards him. Behind, Storm and Cloud and Sun begin to make their way back towards the twin Mists.

This is how Tsunayoshi’s family starts. Not with coercion or violence, but with kindness and an iron fist of justice.


End file.
